Eps-spine..Is a serious condition' currently afflicting
The white house, and many world
potentates..Aquired due to close proximity to the
Walking death ( most commonly known')
As epstein jeff..I am afraid.? No.! Pleased
To diagnose' removal from drugs; radical surgery, by laser if
Required? Also, denial of access to social
Media platforms for all affected, immediate removal of funding, coupled with exposure to Biblical
proportianal purging regularly.!
Maybe also? a two year stint in sewer
cleansing? At citys of the incumbent peoples choice.? With a review at the end
And re-employment if they have not learned to a sufficent standard, and the
Same if they have proffiancy.' I beleive that they would un-derstand that rationale?
So i'd employ it to reduce any chance of
Trauma.'
He had a 1000 watt smile
And an explosive personality
But not in a destructive disturbing way
In a disarming delightfully charming way
He was always smiling never sad or down
Despite being a toddler with Down’s syndrome
His bright eyes could peel paint off the walls
With their concentrated energy during nap time
Eventually the music we’d play would
Serenade his high spirits to sleepy land
Only recharging his boisterous body
Cannon always had a runny nose sleep or not
Being born caramel with challenges are his cards
But Cannon was a kid who could play his hand
He was intelligent and as cute as he was smart
He seemed to know it with his attentive smile.
I haven’t seen Cannon since he was three
And a student in my cross category class
But I often think of him and the other kids
And then a smile slides across my face
I lost a lot chasing pleasures of flesh--
My son that gave me age lost loving wife,
Mine lost her mind, woe to me, to my rash
Acts, to my ways to invite my own strife!
A venomous snake (what else) had stung me,
Yayati poured out his heart in a dream
To a victim drowned in a self-made sea,
Forced to run a rat race, rise still like cream,
And stressed, lest he’s left behind-- a vague fear
To lose life of pleasures, nay, pains so sweet
Of today’s man driving on reverse gear
And out, a make-believe monster to beat.
Whence hast arisen this fantasy from?
Self-made, from what-will-the-world-say syndrome.
_________________________________
Sonnet | 01.03.2026 | dream, fantasy, fear, illness, joys
Note: Yayati of Mahabharata suffered from the fear of loss of life’s pleasures, now known as Yayati syndrome. This sonnet warns about its counterpart known as anti-Yayati syndrome born off today’s world of rat race.
A Happy Go Lucky Guy
With Down Syndrome
And Autism
A Tennis Ball Bouncing Guy
It’s what I remember about you
Every time I saw you
A Happy Go Lucky Guy
With Down Syndrome
And Autism
A guy saying
Go, Go, Go
All the time
A Happy Go Lucky Guy
With Down Syndrome
And Autism
An artist in later life
Enjoying sitting at the table
Engulphed with paints.
A Happy Go Lucky Guy
With Down Syndrome
And Autism
Living your best life
Uncle Lorne
You will be missed
By all who knew you
I didn’t choose the role,?but it settled on me early.?Before I knew what I was doing,?I was already responsible?for more than myself.
I learned to carry things?that weren’t mine?small things at first:?a bottle, a backpack,?a sibling’s tears.?Then bigger things:?disappointment,?expectations,?the silence between questions?no one wanted to ask.
They said I was “mature,”?as if that were praise.?But all I wanted?was to be little?a little longer.
No one saw me?as someone who could fall apart.
someone who could break?Only as the one?who holds it together?for everyone else.
I was the first to know better,?the one who had to lead,?even when I didn’t know the way.?I became a blueprint?and a warning.
Sometimes I wonder?what I would have been?if I had been allowed to just be.
Not the example.?Not the helper.?Not the second parent?with the same last name.
Still, I love deeply.?I protect quietly.?I show up—always.
Even if no one remembers?who taught them how.
I don’t remember my childhood?Not really, anyway.?Just flashes,?Like static on a screen?Or dreams you lose by midday.
I remember the shift?The hush before the baby came.?Suddenly, I was older,?Not by age,?But by what they asked me to claim.
I remember doing my own hair,?Tiny hands fumbling with combs and clips,?No one to say, “Let me help you,”?Only quiet expectations?And sealed lips.
I remember making my own lunch,?Crumbs of independence?Scattered across plastic bags,?While other kids had notes and napkins,?I had duty tucked in my backpack.
I wish I stayed little longer.?I wish growing up wasn’t a race.?Wish I’d been one of the children,?Not a mirror of their face.
I wish I wasn't the in-between?Too small to carry so much weight,?Yet too big to need comforting.?I wish I had more time?To just play.
Maybe then I’d remember it.?Maybe then,?I’d call it mine.
I think about you, not thinking about me
an ode to something I never thought we'd be
a hymn for a shape
i never thought would learn my name
outside is bright
almost aggressively so
the sky keeps its promises
but the colors refuse to stay
as if the world misplaced
the filter you gave it
somewhere my light learned
how to dim without going out
your hours spend themselves freely
not even a coin set aside for me
or maybe there is one
tarnished
quiet
worth less than memory
they say loss teaches value
but i feel more like breath
after the lungs have forgotten
why they opened
The more you sit and ponder
Do your eyes start to wander?
He's looking back at you
The first bear between us
It could be an autumnal syndrome
The northern wind blows in my mind
I remember the sound of your ringtone
Imagining you couldn’t find
Your very advanced new android
So what if I give you a ring?
In hope if that wouldn’t annoy you
Cause it'll be just one short ping
My darling, who’s playing with us?
You don’t even appear in my sleep
If we are no more than a dust
Why should our dust feel so deep?
We live, then we vanish away
Time passes, the years go by
So what is the reason, please say
I can’t understand, though I tried.
THE OPPRESSOR SYNDROME EXODUS: A MLOKU TRIO
Today, we hued ones, continue to suffer an Oppressor Syndrome;
Once known as Black-On-Black Crime, is still around in our community.
We must now realize its healing must come from us, and us alone:-
It’s indeed a mental disorder to engage in self-oppression;
And it’s one hell of a thing, when the oppressed does the oppressor’s job.
It’s high time we become aware of this unhealthy situation:-
In today’s political oppression, self-healing must now be had.
With renewed faith and belief in self, let us reflect our black power;
With divine wisdom and guidance, let us exodus self-oppression:-
IN AND OF SYNDROME AWARENESS
Time to overcome
This dread Oppressor Syndrome’s
Large, self-killing sum:-
Self-oppression devastates:
Cancel the syndrome’s mistakes:-
Come revolution,
Heal syndrome’s devolution:
Curing delusion:-
It's time for revolution:
Let’s get to liberation:-
We’ve survived much worse,
Of the oppressor’s damned curse;
Now’s too, we must burst:-
Streaming justice back here,
Let’s get going without fear:-
We must get through this;
Can’t lose hope and be remiss:-
Chains, we must resist:-
This cold war, too, must be done;
Liberty claimed and won:-
Struggling years lay ahead,
Election chains must be shed;
Let’s put fear to bed:-
Let’s claim our democracy,
And our equanimity!
You’ve spent years gathering pieces.
Lessons woven into your hands,
stitched into your voice,
threaded through the way you move.
Still, you hesitate.
As if wisdom needs a witness.
As if truth needs permission.
As if you are waiting for someone
to say, yes, you are allowed.
But no one is coming to grant you authority.
No degree, no title, no nod of approval
will make you more of what you already are.
You know.
You have always known.
And when you finally claim it—
they will know too.
People say the oddest things
not realizing their faux pas
Given the chance to self correct
they usually fail miserably
Is it malice or stupidity
~ unlikely we'll ever know
AP: 3rd place 2025
One cup was enough
to curl his toes
as caffeine
the psychoactive chemical
allowed no doze
or more than a mug
no matter how roasted
the polyphenols
affected his free radicals
'til he did feel really quite toasted
and yet with no wish to upset
the happy home
after so many years of married life
he chose to grin and bear it
the 'Harried Hubby' syndrome
for altho' his dear wife
brewed her coffee in a pot
bad-tasting as it was
grounds for divorce
it was not
While sharing the ride
and not a lot to see or do
seated side by side
in the Chunnel queue
with commuters driving home
I took a look at the view
carpool tunnel vision syndrome
toe tag flutters
she leans in for selfies—
sad-face emoji
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